


all is faire (in love and war)

by regardinglove



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Mercedes/Annette, Background Relationships, Car Accidents, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character Death, Renaissance Faires, Sylvix Big Bang (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regardinglove/pseuds/regardinglove
Summary: "Three things happen at once. Felix begins to walk up the bleachers when a child’s voice yells “Watch out!” from a few feet away. Before he knows it, he’s dodging out of the way of a white wiffle ball and finds himself tumbling backwards, heels slipping on the bleachers edge. The world around him begins to tilt as if on an axis, and his heart jumps up into his throat as he flails his arms and falls, muscles bracing for impact——before the sensation stops, and the feeling of warm, strong arms surges through his system.“How about now?” that same playful voice from earlier says, low enough that only Felix can hear. It sends a shock up his spine at how close it is, and when he dares to look up, those amber eyes are staring back, one eyebrow raised like a question."— Or, Felix attends a Renaissance Faire for an assignment, and ends up getting more than he bargained for when he's (literally) swept off his feet by a suave, charming knight.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 126
Collections: Sylvix Big Bang





	all is faire (in love and war)

_**i.** _

“Ooooh! This is going to be so much fun! Don’t you think so, Felix?”

Felix kicks a loose piece of gravel on the ground and shrugs his shoulders, glancing up at the sky. 

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that,” Annette whines as she jogs ahead, amber hair catching in the early summer wind, flowing out behind her like ocean waves. “This was _your_ idea, after all.” 

Felix rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. “All I said was that it’d be easier to do this stupid assignment together, that’s all. I’mnot the one who insisted we get up at the crack of dawn and wear these ridiculous _costumes_ ,” he spits out, gesturing down at his period-appropriate attire in utter disgust. 

“You can’t go to a renaissance faire without being in costume. That would be defeating the purpose!” Mercedes chimes in as she catches up, her singsong voice grinding against his ears. 

Felix glances out of the corner of his eye. Annette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, her face almost as bright as the sun with her thousand-watt smile. Next to her, Mercedes giggles behind her hands, a slight blush rising to her cheeks when she sees her girlfriend’s excitement. While he did the bare minimum for his costume — flowy white shirt, khaki pants, knee-high boots that he stole from the theatre department — the girls went to the nines. Annette’s decked out in a tan and teal dress that brushes the dirty path, while Mercedes skips along in an ankle-length, ruffled gown and leather boots. It’s a miracle they’re not completely soaked through with sweat; summers in Faerghus aren’t particularly scorching, but the sun is brutal today despite the wind, already beating down despite it being barely past 10 o’clock in the morning. 

Annette shakes her head and links arms with him and Mercedes. “Think of it this way: maybe Professor Eisner will give us extra credit for going all out? I don’t know about you guys, but I need a boost after that last exam.” 

Mercedes nods in agreement. Felix only huffs out a disgruntled breath. Don’t get him wrong, Annette and Mercedes are his best— and possibly only— friends, but it’s downright exhausting being around two human golden retrievers, sometimes. 

He’s given a bit of reprieve when Annette breaks away from the group and runs ahead. “Look! We’re here!” she cries out, and without looking back to see if anyone is following, takes off towards the canopy of trees up ahead. Mercedes sighs and jogs after her, leaving Felix to take in the scene before him alone.

Through a cluster of oak trees, a banner tied to two branches peeks out, the bold lettering welcoming guests to the 10th Annual Faerghus Renaissance Faire. He takes his time, letting himself wander along the dirt path, listening to the faint sound of violinists mix in with the clang of metal against metal. When he approaches the ticket booth, a young girl with cinnamon twist braids takes his money and hands him a schedule of events, pointing out the human chess match that’s taking place a few steps away. He nods in thanks and walks through another bank of trees, until a clearing appears—

—and Felix stops in his tracks.

It’s like he’s stepped back through time. 

Dancers in medieval attire twirl in front of him, their skirts fluttering around their ankles while a man with a lyre trails behind. A gaggle of women dressed as barmaids giggle as they try on flower crowns of various colors, while a young boy dressed as a knight runs by with a turkey leg in one hand and a foam sword in the other. To his left, an older woman sits on a decked out throne while a court jester juggles in front of her, a crowd of onlookers laughing at the ridiculous sight. To his right, a dusty road leading into a wooded area is lined with shabby signs, warning those who enter to beware the fae folk. 

It’s all so overwhelming, that Felix almost forgets to breathe… until a tap on his shoulder sends him jolting back to his senses. 

“Felix! C’mon!” Mercedes says in that high-pitched voice of hers, grabbing his hand and dragging him forward without warning. His toe catches on the ground and he almost trips, only managing to maintain his balance by sheer luck. “Annette just bought the _cutest_ flower crown for you.” 

“I am _not_ wearing a flower crown!” 

Mercedes just winks. 

Hours (and one flower crown later), Felix is exhausted. He’s always been putty in Mercedes’ and Annette’s hands, but today they’re using the full power of their charms, dragging him into every candle shop they pass, taking ridiculous selfies with their giant turkey legs and oversized foam swords. They even get him to pose with a replica of Excalibur (which was pretty damn cool, but he’ll never admit it). By the time they get around to their _actual_ assignment, his feet are so sore he can barely stand, and when he slides onto one of the metal benches reserved for the jousting tournament they’re supposed to observe, it takes everything in him not to audibly moan in relief. He can only imagine how the girls are feeling in their high-heeled boots. 

“Oooh, after this we should stop by that jewelry stand!” Mercedes chimes. 

“No way,” Felix groans. He reaches down to rub a cramp out of his calf, fingers kneading away the throbbing pain that has bloomed there. “I’m going _home_.” 

“You’re no fun,” Annette grunts, but it’s halfhearted and with a smile. 

He doesn’t get to respond before a trio of trumpeters emerge from behind a ruby curtain and begin playing. The sound quiets the crowd as a familiar face walks towards the middle of the jousting circle. Her dark hair is pulled up into a bun laced with flowers, dressed in a beautiful navy gown with green and gold accents. It’s a bit disorienting, seeing his professor dressed in clothing fit for royalty instead of her usual all-black attire. 

“She looks stunning,” Annette whispers in his ear. “It’s like she’s a whole other person!”

“Isn’t that the whole point of a Renaissance Faire?” Felix quips, which earns him a rough elbowing from Mercedes. 

“Hush, you two! The joust is about to start!” 

Felix turns his attention back to the arena at Mercedes’ request. Sure enough, two new figures have entered the ring; the first one waits in the left wing, sitting on a white horse, her entire body is concealed in gleaming silver armor. The crowd goes wild when she rides around the outskirts, waving at the small children who have taken up post near the barricades. On the opposite end of the arena sits a man dressed in fully black armor, ominous spikes sticking out of his shoulders. It’s clear he’s supposed to be the villain of this charade, and yet, Felix finds his eyes inexplicably drawn to him, as if he can’t look away. 

There are a few words from Professor Eisner before the sound of a horn signals the start of the joust. Immediately, the two riders charge at each other in a show of reckless abandon. The woman dodges the man’s parry easily, which raises a roar from the crowd. The man shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, clearly looking for some sort of sympathy, but only gets boos from the audience. While he’s distracted by the crowd, the woman has already lined up for her next shot, beckoning the man forward with her hand. He takes the bait and charges again, only for the woman to dodge his attack, another round of applause overtaking the area. The routine goes on for a few more rounds, until the woman finally knocks the man so hard across the chest that he goes barreling towards the ground and plays dead, ending the match. 

Annette and Mercedes burst out in exclamations next to him, utterly enraptured with the scene. Felix stays quiet, staring intently at the man still sprawled out on the ground. His acting is quite convincing; if Felix was a child, he could’ve easily thought that the villain was dead with how little his chest was moving. The kids at the barricades seem to believe his charade, and one even pulls on his mother’s hand while he points at the man, yelling about how the “strong lady saved them all from the bad guy.” 

The crowd clears out after a few minutes, but Felix, Annette, and Mercedes remain to jot down notes on their phones for the assignment. He glances up on occasion to look at the cast who are still milling about, getting ready for the next performance, when the “dark knight” from earlier takes off his helmet—

—and Felix immediately forgets what he was doing. 

The first thing Felix notices is the shock of red hair. It’s messy, but he can’t tell if it’s a natural state or if it’s from the helmet. Either way, it’s _beyond_ sexy, falling slightly into the man’s eyes and framing his strong jawline. He’s standing with one hip jutted out, an eyebrow raised as he talks up one of the trumpeteers. When he runs a hand through his hair, it’s so outright sensual that Felix is sure he’s blushing. He’s so preoccupied with his fawning that he drops his phone, the clacking breaking him out of his state. 

“Oh _shit_ ,” Felix hisses when the phone finally lands in the dirt. Even from where he’s seated, Felix can see that the glass is cracked beyond repair, tendril-like fissures now decorating the screen. Annette and Mercedes are too preoccupied with their conversation to notice, so Felix shoves up from the bleachers and takes the steps two at a time, audibly groaning when he sees the full damage up close. It’s going to cost at least three of his paychecks to fix, and he internally groans. Can it get any worse?

“Uh, I think you dropped this?” a playful voice sounds to his left. 

Felix turns, and comes face to face with the redheaded knight. It’s like being punched in the gut; from afar, Felix just thought he was hot, but up close? He’s _gorgeous_. Amber eyes gaze down at him, the sunlight bringing out the shine in them. His lips are a perfect bow shape, and the way they smirk at Felix almost makes his heart stop. Despite the heat, he smells like cardamom and orange peels, as if he just walked out of a bakery, and when he flashes a real smile, Felix forgets how to breathe. 

What is _happening?_

“Um… hello?” the man says again, and it’s only then that Felix realizes he hasn’t actually spoken. 

“Ah, yeah, that’s mine,” he mumbles under his breath, quickly grabbing his phone from the mysterious knight. “Thanks.” 

“Hey, wait!” the man calls when Felix turns to go back up the bleachers. “That’s all I get? A thank you? C’mon, can I at least get your name?” 

“No,” he says flatly, turning on his heel. “Goodbye.” 

Three things happen at once. Felix begins to walk up the bleachers when a child’s voice yells “Watch out!” from a few feet away. Before he knows it, he’s dodging out of the way of a white wiffle ball and finds himself tumbling backwards, heels slipping on the bleachers edge. The world around him begins to tilt as if on an axis, and his heart jumps up into his throat as he flails his arms and falls, muscles bracing for impact—

—before the sensation stops, and the feeling of warm, strong arms surges through his system. 

“How about now?” that same playful voice from earlier says, low enough that only Felix can hear. It sends a shock up his spine at how close it is, and when he dares to look up, those amber eyes are staring back, one eyebrow raised like a question. 

He can’t do this. 

So, he does the only thing he knows how to do: he bolts. 

Extracting himself from the man’s arms, Felix brushes off his pants of invisible dirt, nods stiffly, and takes off— ignoring Annette and Mercedes’s yelling, the noise of the crowd, and especially that gaze he can feel burning on the back of his neck. 

_**interlude.** _

_A road stretches out before him, blacktop shimmering in the sweltering summer sun. Felix looks down at himself and already knows what he’s going to find— black shirt, black pants, black tie, his ode to what he’s lost. Despite knowing what’s going to happen, realizing that he’s in a nightmare of his own making, he squints into the searing sunshine. On the horizon, a racing red car comes towards him at full speed with no signs of slowing down. He turns to run, get out of the way, but it’s like his feet are stapled to the ground, unmoving despite the danger ahead. He closes his eyes, bracing for an impact._

_A voice breaks the silence._

_“Felix! Move!”_

_He doesn’t._

_“Fe!”_

_Again, he stays in place. He knows what comes next, knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it._

_The car is fifteen feet away, then ten, five. Felix sends up a prayer to whoever is listening, wishes for a quick death._

_It never comes._

_Instead, wind catches in his hair as he’s shoved aside. He watches in horror as a pair of familiar blue eyes and a flash of black hair takes his place. The boy smiles—_

—and Felix wakes up with a start, heart hammering in his chest, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

_**ii.** _

_You’re here for research. That’s all._

At least, that’s what Felix tells himself as he approaches the arches of the Ren Faire. It’s been a week since The Incident (as Annette has come to call it), and despite trying everything in his power, he can’t get that flirty, redheaded jerk out of his mind. It’s ridiculous; one encounter with a cute stranger shouldn’t be keeping him up at night, replaying the scene over and over again like a bad train wreck. And yet, here he is. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Felix carefully pulls it out along with his wallet. He hands the cinnamon twist girl a ten dollar bill and accepts a tiny ticket stub in return, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’ while he swipes open the new message. 

**Annie & The Babes**

A: how’s that “research” comin’ along fe?

M: oh! are you actually doing it? going to get your knight in shining armor? *prayer hand emoji*

F: Please shut up, both of you. 

M: that’s not very nice! 

A: don’t mind him, mercie he’s just nervous

F: I have nothing to be nervous about. 

M: suuuuuuuuuuuure

F: I’m putting the phone away. 

A: love you! you can do this! go get your man *heart emoji* *eggplant emoji* *tongue out emoji* 

F: I hate you. 

A: you love me

F: I’d sell you to Satan for one corn chip. 

A: love you too! 

He lets out a sigh as he locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket, a little smile appearing on his face. Annoying as Annette and Mercedes may be, he’d be nothing without them. 

As he delves deeper into the chaos of the Faire, Felix wonders if this was a big mistake. Who’s to say that his “mystery man” is even going to be here? He’s got enough common sense to know that cast members come and go, especially in a college town like Faerghus. And even if he does find him, who’s to say that he’ll even be given the time of day? The thoughts swirl through his mind, to the point where he’s half tempted to give up this whole charade and go home. 

But just as he’s about to give up completely, he spots him. 

He’d dressed differently today; instead of being clad in armor, he’s dressed in peasant’s gear— worn down boots, cuffed khaki pants, a loose-fitting shirt that looks like it's seen better days. The blonde knight from last weekend stands next to him, still dressed in her gleaming silver armor. Something she says makes him laugh, and the noise is so loud it breaks through the din of the crowd. When he comes back down, he looks at the blonde girl with a bold grin, then pulls her into a hug. 

Felix deflates like a day old balloon. Of course he has a girlfriend; he’s too beautiful not to. How could he be so stupid? He’s just about to turn around, bruised pride and all, when he locks eyes with the beautiful stranger. _Shit. Shit shit shit shit shi—_

“Hey! Wait!” a voice calls as Felix tries to walk away. He considers ignoring it, just breaking into a run like last time, but something stops him, holds him in place while _he_ jogs over, a soft, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Where’s the fire?” 

He shoves his hands under his armpits and glances to the side. “What do you want?” he mutters under his breath.

“You tell me; you’re the one who was staring,” the man says, which only makes Felix turn an embarrassing shade of vermillion. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

Felix’s mind whirls, trying and failing to come up with a reasonable explanation. “I… uh… research,” he blurts out. 

The man cocks an eyebrow and repeats, “Research?”

“Uh— yeah,” Felix manages to get out. “I’m a history major.” 

“No shit! Do you go to FU?” When Felix nods in assent, the man’s lips spread into a huge, overwhelming smile. “Dude, me too! I’m doing my senior thesis on medieval fighting techniques which explains, well, this,” he gestures to his garb. “I’m Sylvain, by the way.” 

“Felix.” 

“Ah, so you do have a name,” Sylvain teases, which only makes Felix blush even redder than before. “Well then, nice to meet you, Felix.” 

“Likewise.” When Sylvain just looks curiously at him, Felix snaps, “What?” 

“Nothing,” Sylvain says with his hands raised. “Just, you don’t say much, do you?”

Felix snorts and rolls his eyes. “I only say what’s necessary, that’s all. Small talk is useless.”

“Okay then, no small talk. Got it.” Sylvain pulls out his phone from his pocket and shoves it in Felix’s direction. 

He looks at it like it’s a venomous snake. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your number; since you’re clearly not falling for my charming banter,” Sylvain says with a wink. 

“You’re persistent,” he says as he takes the phone, reluctantly adding in his number. 

“Damn right I am,” Sylvain says as he takes the phone back, then sighs. “Look, in all seriousness, I think I can help you out. You want to know more about medieval history? I’m your guy. Plus I know all the best history professors at FU and their tricks.” 

Felix looks him up and down. “And what would you want in return?” 

Sylvain shrugs. “Your company, I guess? Not gonna lie, seeing the same faces every weekend is a bit exhausting. We can meet up on my breaks and talk.” 

Felix glances down at the dusty ground. He doesn’t know why he’s hesitating; he knows he’s going to say yes. And yet, a part of him holds back, the part of him that closes off at the first sign of a possible connection and believes that anyone who gives him the time of day is asking for trouble. His traitorous mind brings up memories he’d rather keep under lock and key. It’s almost enough for him to refuse, go back to the small bubble of comfort he’s carved out for himself over the years, but something about Sylvain’s earnest expression makes him reach out, push past the barriers he’s used to and step out the other side. 

“Okay,” Felix says after a long pause. 

Sylvain’s smile is breathtakingly bright, and Felix jumps as the sudden influx of his heart rate. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the blonde knight from earlier jogging over. 

“Hey! Come on! We’re going to be late for the afternoon joust!” she says as she loops her arm through Sylvain’s, nudging him away. 

“Ah, okay I’ve gotta go, but come back next weekend, okay? Promise?” 

Felix sighs, “Sure thing.” 

Sylvain’s smirks. “It’s a date, then.”

_**interlude.** _

_SYLVAIN HAS CHANGED THE NAME OF THE CHAT: **HISTORY HOES**_

F: You can’t be serious. 

S: c’mon, it’s funny! 

F: It’s ridiculous. 

S: your ridiculous 

F: *you’re 

S: ???

F: It’s _you’re_ ridiculous. Not _your._

S: pssh grammar snob

F: Whatever. Tell me more about how Shakespere was, and I quote, “bisexual AF”

S: okay SO i’ve been doing research and many historians believe that his sonnets are signs of his love for booty… 

_**iii.** _

A few weeks pass by. The June winds give way to the stifling, dry heat of July, and Felix finds himself falling into a new routine. He still goes to classes in the morning, spends his afternoons studying with Mercedes and Annette, and eats way too much takeout at night. But now instead of just trudging through and keeping his head low to the ground, he finds himself feeling, well, _happier_ than he’s felt in ages. He’d like to blame it on the weather, or the fact that Professor Eisner asked if he wants to student teach next year, but in reality, he knows it’s because of a certain redhead who keeps blowing up his phone. 

Sylvain is, for lack of a better word, ridiculous. The suave knight he met all those weeks ago is barely a figment of his memory; instead, he’s been replaced by a flirty, overconfident, jock who thinks texting Felix “Do you think cows dream?” at 3 AM is a good way to spend his time. Their conversations go from simple ‘how are you’ texts to long phone calls, discussing anything and everything until the sun comes up. It’s a bit concerning how easily he opens up to Sylvain, airing out his fears of not living up to his father’s expectations, if he chose the right major, what he’ll do after graduation. Sylvain is a bit less forthcoming with his thoughts, always brushing off any serious topic with a joke and a smile, but when he does lay out his concerns on the table, Felix finds himself caring deeply about whatever Sylvain says. It’s the closest he’s felt to anyone in, well, ever, and it only helps that Annette and Mercedes are _enamored_ with Sylvain. The teasing he’s endured the past few weeks makes him question why he’s still friends with them, though.

Today is a good example. As he walks the now familiar paths of the Faire, Mercedes and Annette are chattering at his side, prodding him about Sylvain. 

“Okay but do you _like_ him like him?” Annette teases. “Aw, you do, don’t you? Little Felix’s first crush.”

“So adorable!” Mercedes chimes in. 

“If you don’t shut up I’m gonna feed you to the horses,” he mutters under his breath. 

Annette looks like she’s about to tell him off, but she doesn’t get the chance before Sylvain comes barreling towards them, dressed in his peasant gear. 

“Felix! There you are! C’mon,” he says as he grabs Felix’s arms and drags him along. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” Felix asks. 

Sylvain just smirks. “Wanna get married?” 

Felix gapes while Annette and Mercedes stare at them. “What?!” they both exclaim at the same time. 

“Calm down, ladies.” Sylvain winks. “It’s just pretend. Ingrid ate a bad turkey leg at lunch and had to go home, so I’m down a partner for the handfasting ceremony.” 

“Ooh, a handfasting ceremony! So romantic!” Mercedes cooes while Annette practically swoons next to her. “C’mon, Annie! Let’s go get seats!” 

He doesn’t get to object before they’re running off, giggling as they disappear behind a line of trees. Sylvain raises an eyebrow at him. “So? You in?” 

Felix crosses his arms. “Do I have a choice?” 

“Nope,” Sylvain says, popping his lips on the ‘p’. “Now c’mon, let’s go get hitched.” 

Despite everything in him that says this is a terrible idea, Felix sighs and follows Sylvain through the fairgrounds. It feels like they wander forever, but eventually they end up on the outskirts of the faire. The area is hidden away from the rest of the chaos, with only the faint murmurs of the crowd breaking through the heavy tree cover. A few wooden benches are set up for onlookers, angled towards an arch made of entangled tree branches. Small white flowers are woven within, matching the silk petals that are scattered on the ground. 

“This way,” Sylvain says, then takes Felix’s arm and guides him over to an area marked off for participants. There are a few other couples there: two girls with pink and blue hair, dressed in flowing white dresses, an older couple who look to be bickering more than enjoying the moment, and a pair of college guys wearing matching Faerghus University t-shirts. 

“Why do you need to do this? They’re clearly people who want to participate,” Felix asks. 

Sylvain shrugs. “It’s part of the job. Usually we have cast members volunteer first to lighten the mood and show the actual participants what to do. Ingrid and I do this at least once a day.” 

Felix brushes away a piece of hair that’s fallen out of his bun. “Is Ingrid the blonde girl I saw you with a few weeks ago?” 

Sylvain nods. 

“And are you two…?” 

“What? Me and Ingrid? No!” Sylvain shakes his head, laughing. “Ingrid is my pain-in-the-ass best friend. She’s like a sister to me.” 

Felix tries and fails to push down the relief that floods through him at those words. “Oh.” 

The group lapses into silence as a woman dressed in a tight white dress adorned with crystals takes her place under the arch. Her light green hair catches in the wind and flows around her, like a goddess descending from above. Her eyes are soft as she says, “Welcome to the handfasting ceremony. This is where young lovers come together to pledge their commitment to each other. Once handfasted, the lovers are considered bound under the eyes of the Goddess.” She turns towards the volunteers. “If anyone would wish to be handfasted today, please step forward now.” 

There is a pause as the other couples look at each other, some giggling to themselves while others blush profusely. Felix looks over at Sylvain, but he’s already standing up and striding towards the green-haired priestess, arms thrown out towards the crowd. 

“My beloved and I volunteer!” Sylvain declares, looking over at Felix intensely. 

Felix feels the redness rise on his cheeks as he gets up and steps forward. The priestess looks them over and says, “Beautiful. What are your names?” 

Sylvain bows. “I am Sylvain and this is my beloved, Felix.”

“Ah, such wonderful names,” the priestess says. “May the Goddess bless this holy union. Now, will both of you step under the holy altar.” 

The priestess guides towards the extravagant arch. Once they are both underneath it, she pulls a red strip of cloth from seemingly out of nowhere and holds it up in the air. “With this cloth, these two lovers will be bound together. Now, please join hands.” 

Sylvain reaches over and carefully takes both of Felix’s hands in his own. When he looks up, the absolute adoration in Sylvain’s eyes almost knocks him off his feet. It’s no wonder everyone who approaches him ends up a stuttering mess; he’s absolutely spellbinding. 

“Sylvain and Felix,” the priestess recites, “this cord is a symbol of the connection between your two lives. As your hands are bound together by this cord, so too, will your lives be bound together under the Goddess.” She takes the weathered scrap of fabric and neatly wraps it around their entwined hands, tying it off with a knot. “These are the hands that will love you. These are the hands that will hold and comfort you through the years. These are the hands that will give you support and encouragement. These are the hands you will each work with, create with, and use to build a life together. The knots of this binding are not formed by these cords but instead by your vows, the promises you make in your hearts and uphold each day through your actions.

Remember, you hold in your own hands the making or breaking of this union.” She looks adoringly at the two of them. “Just as your hands are now bound together, so too, are your lives. I now pronounce you bonded under the eyes of our Goddess.” 

The crowd breaks out into cheers as the knotted ribbon is carefully extracted from their hands. The priestess calls for the next couple to come to the altar, but not before Sylvain yanks Felix forward and presses a kiss to his forehead. 

“Thank you,” Sylvain whispers in his ear, then walks off towards where Mercedes and Annette are anxiously waiting. 

Felix doesn’t know how to react. It’s like electricity is crackling through his veins at the contact, making him short circuit. How can a forehead kiss and two simple words send him into such a frenzy? It doesn’t make sense, it _can’t_ make sense. Getting close to Sylvain is a horrible idea, and as their little group wanders back into the cacophony of the crowd, Felix can’t help but feel like he’s in for more than he can chew. 

_i **nterlude.** _

_The familiar scene unfolds before him. The blacktop glistens in the summer heat. The red car rushes towards him. He braces for impact, knowing what is going to come next— his brother’s body will crash against his, taking the hit that was supposed to be for him. Felix will look down, see the pavement turned red as his brother’s now lifeless eyes stare back at him. He’ll stare off into the distance where the drunk driver is zooming out of sight, never to be seen again. He’ll scream, yell for help, only to realize that it’s too late; Glenn is already gone._

_But that’s not what happens._

_Instead of his brother’s familiar weight knocking him aside, a flash of red hair flies into his vision, screaming at him to get out of the way. Felix doesn’t understand, and before he can comprehend what’s going on, Sylvain shoves him out of harm’s way and takes the hit, flipping over the car’s hood before crashing to the ground in a crumpled heap, blood spilling from his mouth. He rushes over, turns Sylvain towards him, and gets one last look at those amber eyes he adores before they close forever._

Felix screams loud enough to wake himself up. 

_**iv.**_

Felix doesn’t go back to the Faire that weekend. He ignores Sylvain’s texts, which go from light teasing to genuine concern when he doesn’t show up. Sylvain texts him throughout the week, talking about his summer classes, how unfair Professor Manuela’s grading is, and if he’ll see Felix at next weekend’s joust. He replies with short, distant answers, until eventually the texts stop coming all together. 

He knows it’s unfair; it’s not Sylvain’s fault his brain is a traitorous bastard, and it’s not like the dream was real, anyway. But Felix is a glutton for self-punishment and regret, so he ignores the gnawing inside of him that craves Sylvain’s easy affection, turns off his phone whenever he gets the urge to text back. He throws himself into his studies, working until he can’t keep his eyes open and can assure dreamless sleep. Professor Eisner even comments on his work, saying it’s the best she’s ever seen from him. He takes the compliment as a sign to keep going, running himself into the ground for weeks and weeks. He continues on, ignoring everyone and everything, until his friends finally intervene.

“You can’t go on like this, Fe,” Annete says one gloomy afternoon, eyes still trained on her notebook. Their little trio is sitting at the campus coffee shop, studying for their Ancient Civilizations final while nursing mugs of hot chocolate. 

He glances up from the article he’s reading to glare at his friend. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Annette raises an eyebrow and glares at him. “You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about. The constant working? Ignoring Sylvain?” She lowers her voice. “I know the anniversary of Glenn’s death is coming up.” 

Felix visibly flinches at his brother’s name. “Don’t.” 

“You can’t ignore it forever, Fe,” Mercedes chimes in quietly, eyes still focused on her laptop screen. “Glenn wouldn’t want you to treat yourself this way.” 

“How would _you_ know what Glenn wanted? You barely knew him!” he hisses under his breath, then pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers at his words. “Sorry,” he immediately apologizes. 

Mercedes looks at him with those huge doe eyes of hers and says, “True, but I have a younger brother; if I found out Emil was treating himself the way you are right now, I’d be devastated.” She pauses and reaches over, her fingers lightly brushing Felix’s knuckles before pulling back. “Whenever you want to talk, we’re here for you.” 

He knows Mercedes is right, but he just can’t be rational when it comes to Glenn. Just hearing his name brings up memories he’d rather forget: running over to his brother’s body, screaming for help; sitting straight as a board in the hospital waiting room, only to crumple when his father walked through the double doors and just shook his head in utter disbelief; standing in the too-hot funeral home, trying to not scream every time someone came up to him and said that Glenn died a hero. 

_Hero_. He hates the word. Glenn’s death wasn’t born of heroism; it was born of Felix’s dumbass decisions, which makes it all that much worse. 

“Fe?” Annette says, jolting him back to reality. 

“What?”

Annette closes her book with a definitive _thud_ and immediately begins gathering her things, Mercedes wordlessly following. “Pack your things. We’re going to the Faire.” 

Felix rolls his eyes. “What good will that do?” 

“Don’t be a baby,” Mercedes chides, like he’s an unruly child. “You need a distraction right now, and _I_ think talking to your little knight friend will do some good..” She tosses his jacket at him from across the table. “Let’s go.” 

And that’s how he finds himself pacing back and forth in front of the staff lounge outskirts. Mercedes and Annette abandoned him the first chance they got, citing him and Sylvain “needing some alone time,” before running off towards the turkey leg stands. Several of the cast members eye him warily, like he’s an angry bear emerging from the woods, but he ignores them all, eyes glancing everywhere for a flash of familiar red hair. 

“Hey! You!” 

Felix nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a light _thwap_ against his shoulder. He turns around and comes face to face with a familiar knight, decked out in her shining armor. It’s odd, seeing Ingrid up close. Sylvain talked about her, of course, but she’s always been in the background, never intruding when he’d come see Sylvain at the Faire. It only then occurs to him that they’d never been properly introduced. 

“Hi?” Felix asks like a question, which only gets an annoyed huff out of Ingrid. 

“Hi? That’s all you have to say after ignoring my friend for weeks?” When he just gapes back at her, she shakes her head. “Look, if you didn’t want to talk to him anymore, you could’ve just outright said it. Leaving him on read is just cruel, you know.” 

“That’s— that’s not it at all,” Felix manages to get out. “I’m just an idiot—”

“—well that’s not news.”

“— _and_ I’m here to make things right,” Felix finishes. “Is he around?” 

Ingrid eyes him up and down before finally letting out a sigh. “He’s over there,” she says, yanking her thumb back towards the outskirts of the woods. 

Felix just nods and takes off. “Thank you!” he calls over his shoulder, then walks as fast as he can towards the treeline, heart taking off in his chest when he hears Sylvain’s familiar voice coming through the brush. He follows the noise through a cluster of pine trees, until he eventually breaks through and finds Sylvain sitting on a fallen log, one hand holding his phone while the other pinches the bridge of his nose.

“For the last time, I’m not coming back!” he hears Sylvain say, followed by the sound of boots kicking up rocks. “I’m _happy_ here, believe it or not, and nothing you say will change that.” When he glances up and catches Felix’s gaze, he jumps before composing himself once more. “I’ll talk to you later,” he mutters before unceremoniously hanging up and turning his attention towards Felix. 

“Uh… hi,” Felix says with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Sylvain snorts. “Hi? That’s all I get?” 

“No— I— I’m sorry,” Felix manages to get out. “For ignoring you all these weeks.” 

Sylvain shrugs. “Can’t say it didn’t hurt; I’ve been wracking my brain for weeks about what I did wrong.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Syl,” he says quietly. 

“Then why did you ghost me? I thought we had a good thing goin’.” He sighs again. “If you don’t want to talk to me anymore, I get it. I know I’m a little hard to handle at times, as I was just reminded.” 

Felix tentatively walks over and takes a seat next to him. “Yeah, what was that call about?” 

“Nothing, just— my old man and I have never really seen eye to eye, y’know?” He pauses, seems to take a minute to see what he’s willing to reveal, before throwing his hands in the air. “Fuck it. You want to know why I’m here, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, playing dress-up for a bunch of college kids every weekend? Because I knew it would drive my father _crazy_. I was supposed to be the golden son, marry a nice girl, major in business, and take over my father’s insurance company after my deadbeat brother ran off without telling anyone.” He shakes his head and kicks another stone, eyes following its movement across the ground. “He never asked what I wanted in life, he just chose a path for me and expected me to follow like I’m some mindless pet. So I left.” 

“Left?”

“Left. I just… packed up whatever would fit in my car and began driving. I was already set to go to school at FU, so I headed that way and stumbled on this Faire. I spent so much time here that one summer I was eventually offered a job, and the rest is history.” A sad smile brushes across his lips. “I had to take out a massive loan for FU, and my dad was less than thrilled when he came back from a business trip and found me gone, but I wouldn’t change it for a thing.” 

Felix takes it all in, lets Sylvain’s words fall over him. He knows what it’s like to not live up to your parents expectations; after Glenn died, his own father looked at Felix like he was going to pick up where Glenn left off. He didn’t get it, at the time. He isn’t Glenn, the model son who did everything right, up until the moment he died. No, he’s the disappointment, the one who lashes out too much, won’t let anyone get close and pushed his father away when he needed him most. And while things are getting better with Rodrige, there’s still so many words he can never take back, scars that will never fully heal. Their relationship will always be like broken pottery, the cracks glued back together but still visible for anyone to see. It’s just another thing they have in common, an invisible string tying him to Sylvain in ways he never understood. Which is why he takes a deep breath and lets out the words that have been eating him up inside for years. 

“Everyone I care about gets hurt, that’s why I stopped talking to you.” 

Sylvain raises an eyebrow. “Wait, what?” 

“It’s true; my mom left a few days after I was born, my brother died saving me, and now my dad is a shell of a man, all because of me. I… can’t go through that again.” 

“ _Shit_ , Fe, I had no idea,” Sylvain whispers. His hand brushes against Felix’s on the log, fingers tentatively grazing his before pulling back. “When did it happen?” 

“A long time ago. I was ten. Glenn was sixteen. We lived on a busy road and the soccer ball I was playing with rolled into the street. I chased after it, even though Glenn yelled at me not to. When I looked up, a car was speeding towards me.” He pauses, avoiding Sylvain’s sad eyes that are trained on him. “Next thing I knew, Glenn was pushing me out of the way and took the hit meant for me. He died on impact. The driver was fucking _drunk_ in the middle of the day, and while he got what was coming to him, I’ll never get my brother back.” 

Sylvain’s quiet next to him, clearly mulling everything he heard over in his mind. Felix patiently waits, letting his fingers chip off pieces of bark from the log. He prepares for what comes next; Sylvain will leave, they’ll never talk again, and Felix’s life will go back to the way it always was: stable, consistent… lonely. He tells himself that it’s better this way, that if he keeps himself at a distance, he can’t bring ruin to those he loves. And yet, a part of him aches at the thought of not getting his daily ‘good morning!’ text from Sylvain, seeing his easygoing smile, or even listening to his endless rants about the inaccuracies of the Faire. 

After what feels like a thousand years, Sylvain shakes his head and says, “You were just a kid, Fe. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.” 

Felix’s head snaps up. “My brother would still be alive if I just listened! If I wasn’t so stupid—”

“—You were ten years old! We’re all stupid at that age!” 

“But my stupidity caused my brother’s death!” Felix screams, loud enough that the birds in the trees squawk and take off at the noise. He drops his head into his hands. “He’d still be alive if it weren’t for me. I’ll never live that down.” 

The forest goes quiet in the aftermath of his exclamation, with only the distant hum of the Faire and a nearby bubbling creek breaking up the silence. He feels Sylvain shift closer to him, and doesn’t object when Sylvain drapes an arm over his shoulders and pulls him close. 

“Do you know why my brother left?” Sylvain whispers. “Because he was sick and tired of being overlooked by my father. I don’t know why, but Miklan always struggled in school. He didn’t pull the grades my old man wanted, and when the time came for college, Miklan refused to go. Meanwhile, I was on the honor roll since middle school and graduated valedictorian, so my father turned all his attention on me.” He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Miklan always blamed me for his troubles. Did you know he pushed me down a well when we were kids? Broke my arm in three places, and dad paid even more attention to me than usual. Stupid bastard,” he mutters, closing his eyes. “Miklan always let me know just how much he hated me, how much he blamed me for everything wrong with his life. And for a long time, I believed him. It took years for me to realize the blame wasn’t mine to bear. I don’t think Miklan ever realized that, though. I don’t know if he ever will.” 

Everything goes quiet again, and Sylvain removes his warmth from Felix’s side. He resists the urge to whimper at the loss of contact, and nearly jumps when Sylvain’s fingers find his on the log and rest on top of them. 

“You’re not a burden, Fe. There are so many people who care about you… myself included,” he whispers, and Felix’s stomach erupts with butterflies when he spots a dusting of pink across Sylvain’s cheeks. “Just… think about it, okay?” 

Felix isn’t sure he believes Sylvain, doesn’t know if he deserves the forgiveness being offered, but he nods anyway. 

Sylvain smiles softly and wrenches himself away from Felix. “Good. I, uh, need to get back to work, but…” he trails off, “uh, the last day of the Faire is next Saturday, and there’s gonna be a huge cast party afterwards. You wanna come? Annette and Mercedes are invited too, of course,” he adds on. 

He doesn’t even need to think. “Of course,” he breathes. 

Sylvain’s answering grin is bright enough to light up the dark forest. “Great! I’ll, uh, see you there?” 

Felix nods. “See you there.”

He watches as Sylvain escapes through the trees and out of sight. And for the first time in possibly forever, he feels genuinely, uninhibitedly _happy_. 

_**interlude.** _

S: hey fe, do you ever wonder if there are like, other universes? 

S: anyway this all came up because professor eisner started talking about the multiverse theory at the faire yesterday, and she has this belief that everyone lives a hundred lifetimes in a hundred various universes, and that the one we’re living now is just a small blip in time. and she thinks that the people we know in this lifetime are an intricate part of all our lives. so like, you and i are a bunch of broke college students in this life, but in another maybe we’re space pirates. wouldn’t that be cool? or maybe we were best friends in medieval times who fought in a war, and like, made a pact to die together? (yes i’ve been thinking about this a lot don’t judge me). anyway, i like the idea that we’re friends in whatever universe we’re in, because i don’t think i’ve ever met anyone like you before? 

S: fe? you there?

S: oh shit you’re not responding because it’s deadass the middle of the night okay i’ll shut up now

S: sleep well, fe

 _ **v.**_

Sylvain’s message rattles around Felix’s mind all week. He laid in bed for hours that morning, thinking of what to say back, his two sides warring with each other until eventually he just skirted around the text all together, responding back with a generic question about Professor Manuela’s HIS 401 course. If Sylvain was disappointed in his response he didn’t show it, and things went back to how they usually are. And yet, the text gnaws at Felix’s soul, begging him to do something about it. 

A part of him wants to take a chance, face all of these feelings that have been growing inside of him for months now and give them a name; another part of him wants to shut it out forever, stay in the safe bubble he’s created for himself. He’s been hurt too many times; he isn’t sure he’d survive another. And if that isn’t enough, Sylvain haunts his nightmares every night, his face morphing with Glenn’s so easily that it’s hard to tell who is taking the hit. He wakes up in a cold sweat, night after night, only to see another text from Sylvain about some stupid TikTok he watched earlier that day. It’s eating him up. If he doesn’t do something, anything, he’s going to explode. So as he walks into the familiar brush of the Faire, he knows he can’t leave until he has answers, whatever they may be. 

It’s odd, coming to the Faire at night. Crew members have already begun tearing down the sets, so random pieces of wood and folded up chairs litter the side of the path. The sky is bright above, not a cloud to be seen for miles. Annette and Mercedes are practically buzzing out of their skin, babbling to each other about their classes for next semester and if Professor Hanneman will actually let Annette be his teacher’s aid. He tries to pay attention and nod when needed, but both of them can clearly see he’s far away, and accept his less-than-helpful responses. 

Eventually, they come upon the wooded area where the cast members’ lounge is. The metal benches and pop-up tents have been removed, opening up the clearing. Countless people fill the area, all holding red solo cups while an upbeat pop song plays from someone’s phone. He spots a few familiar faces in the crowd, including Professor Eisner (who appears to be shotgunning a White Claw in the corner) and Ingrid (who is chatting with one of the couples he saw at the handfasting ceremony). Annette and Mercedes leave him almost immediately, making a beeline for the snack table. He looks through the crowd for any sign of bright, orange hair, but only finds Annette’s fiery head poking out from the crowd, no one else. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out. 

S: come find me. i’m by that fallen log we sat on a few days ago 

Felix doesn’t need to be told twice. He breaks away from the crowd, awkwardly dodging bodies until he breaks into the wooded area. The sounds of the party quickly fade away the further in he goes, until only the soft sound of birdsong remains. It doesn't take him long to reach the outcropping, and when he does, he’s immediately greeted by Sylvain sitting on the log, face turned up towards the sky, features lit beautifully in the moonlight. He’s not dressed in his Faire gear, instead donning a pair of Doc Martens and skinny jeans to match his AC/DC t-shirt. His fingers absentmindedly play with the bracelet on his wrist, and Felix hates that his mind automatically wonders what _else_ those fingers would be good for. He’s thankful the darkness hides his revealing blush. 

When he steps on a branch, Sylvain’s head turns in his direction, and that familiar, warm smile spreads across his face. “Well, look who finally decided to show up,” he says playfully, beckoning Felix over with the nod of his head. 

Felix snorts and takes a seat next to Sylvain on the log. “Would’ve gotten here faster if Annette didn’t drive like an eighty year old woman.” 

“Heh, I feel that. A turtle could outpace Ingrid on the road.” He goes quiet, fingers chipping away at a piece of loose bark. The cicadas chirp from the trees, and he feels Sylvain move closer to him, until his arm is brushing Felix’s. “Look, I… didn’t ask you to come out here for nothing.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“No,” Sylvain whispers. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Miklan.” 

“Miklan?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m as disgusted as you are,” he says, a half-smirk playing across his lips before falling. “He’s a dick and I’d love to never see his face again, but I’ve always admired that he always just went for what he wanted, not caring what anyone else thought.” Another pause. “Did I tell you my dad called me again? He said he’s willing to forget about everything that happened if I just come home. But I can’t do that. I’m never going to be what my father wants. I’m not going to take over the family business and marry some girl he chose for me and have our 2.5 kids with a picket fence. I… I can’t.” 

Felix glances down at the ground. “So what will you do instead?”

Sylvain shifts again, his warmth protecting Felix against the cold night. “Keep doing what I’m doing. Finish school. Maybe talk to Professor Eisner about how she became a teacher.” He pauses, then whispers, “Go after what I want.” 

Felix can feel the shift in the air, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. When he turns his head, Sylvain is there, close enough that they’re sharing the same air. This close, he can see every fleck of gold in his eyes, and admire the soft freckles that have popped up from the summer sun. His eyes drop to Sylvain’s lips, so soft and welcoming, and without thinking begins to lean in, close, closer—

— _Sylvain on the ground, blood soaking into the pavement. Felix looking down into those beautiful eyes one last time. His screams, ricocheting off the buildings, gone, gone gone._

“Stop,” Felix hisses under his breath, eyes shutting tight enough that he sees stars. The immediate rush of cold air knocks him back into reality and he winces when he opens his eyes and sees Sylvain’s hurt expression. 

Sylvain scoots back a few inches. “Fe,” he whispers, quiet enough it almost gets lost in the water’s babble. “Don’t do this.” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t you see I have to? I’m _broken_ , Syl. And you can’t fix that.” 

“You don’t need to be fixed, Fe!” he exclaims, eyes alight with something Felix has never seen in them before. “Can’t you see that pushing people away gets you nowhere? There are people out there who love you!”

“Who?!”

“Me!” 

The exclamation rings through the dark night, wraps around them both like a blanket. The silence that follows is somehow empty and deafening all at once, and Felix’s mind goes into overdrive. Sylvain loves him. _Sylvain_ loves _him._ He can see it in the heat of his gaze, the look of devastation on his face. Nobody has looked at him like that before; he doubts anyone ever will again. His heart beats like a hummingbird in his chest, going a thousand miles a minute as his mind tries to catch up. 

The late night texts. The way Sylvain listens. The mole on his collarbone that distracts Felix anytime he looks at Sylvain. Sylvain’s kindness, his sense of humor, his ability to talk about Shakespeare’s crude humor one moment and then go on a tangent about society's obsession with beauty standards the next. His laugh, bright like sunshine. His passion for the Faire, seen through everything he does. His everything. 

_I love him_. The thought comes naturally like breathing, and yet it scares Felix to the core. He knows what happens to those he loves; Glenn, his mother, his father, all worse off because of him. How can he subject Sylvain to such a fate? It will only end in disaster. 

And yet, the way Sylvain looks at him, the passion clear on his face, the way he’s looking at Felix like he created the sun and moon, makes him want to risk it all, go against everything he’s ever told himself and fling himself into Sylvain’s arms. He wants to take this declaration, hold it near to him and never let it go. He wants to cross the distance, take Sylvain’s face in his hands, and kiss him like he deserves to be kissed. 

But he can’t. He won’t. 

Instead, he just backs away, putting even more distance between them. “I’m sorry,” he says, then takes off for the treeline, leaving Sylvain and everything he’s ever wanted behind. 

_**interlude.** _

August 1st

SENT 8:10 AM

F: Syl, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please just… talk to me?

READ 9:57 AM

August 9th

SENT 7:40 PM

F: I fucked up. I know I fucked up. You probably never want to talk to me again, and I don’t blame you. I miss you. I’m sorry I ruined everything. 

READ 10:21 PM

August 17th

SENT 3:17 AM 

F: syllllll, i’m really drunk rn and annie is trying to take my puone away but i miss yu so dam much pls text me back ty

F: i fucked up i fucked up i never told you how i feel and now i never will be able to

F: pls talk to me i need to let you know i lo

READ 3:50 AM

_**vi.** _

_**four months later.** _

When Felix wakes up that morning, his head is pounding and Annette is holding his phone hostage. She says she won’t give it back until he explains what happened with Sylvain, so he spills his guts, telling her everything that happened in the woods. She listens intently, and when Mercedes comes over with three to-go mugs filled with hot chocolate and some blueberry muffins, they all sit around and have a pity party for what he lost. It’s oddly refreshing, speaking candidly about his feelings instead of bottling them up, which sparks a visit to the college’s counseling services a few days later. He swears it’s only a one time thing, that he’ll unpack all of his issues and be done with it. 

He ends up going once a week for the rest of the semester. Jeralt, the counselor, is brute and to-the-point, never sugarcoating anything for Felix’s benefit. Felix doesn’t mind; he wouldn’t want someone placating him with platitudes, and it’s nice to have someone other than Annette tell it like it is. As the months go by, the dreams that haunted him every night slowly begin to fade, being replaced by happy memories of him and Glenn as children. Occasionally, a flash of red hair will pop up in the background, gone as soon as it comes. Felix always wakes up with an ache in his chest after those dreams. 

To say that he misses Sylvain is an understatement; it’s like a part of him has torn itself apart, and though he’s slowly working to put it together again, he still kicks himself for messing up the best thing he ever had. It helps that the graduate classes are mostly online, so he doesn’t see Sylvain while walking to class or studying at the coffee shop. He tries texting a few more times, apologizing for the drunken antics, but gets no response. He’s not surprised; if he was Sylvain, he wouldn’t want to talk to him, either. It is bad enough knowing that he broke his own heart. Knowing that he also broke Sylvain’s is sometimes too much to bear. But he gets through it, keeps his head low to the ground and goes all in on his schoolwork. He aces all of his classes, and Professor Eisner offers him an internship for the spring semester, which he readily accepts. And as the last days of the semester wind down, things aren’t perfect, nowhere near it, but he’s reached a level of calm acceptance about how things are. 

Which, of course, goes to shit. 

It’s a Friday afternoon when it happens. Felix is walking across the quad after his last class of the semester, mind preoccupied with an exam question he isn’t sure he got right. His eyes are focused on the ground, which is slowly beginning to be covered with white, fluffy snow. He pulls his scarf closer to his body, thoughts lost, when he hears a panicked “Look out!” from ahead of him. When he glances up, a streak of red hair is heading right towards him, slipping out of control on a patch of ice. 

Without thinking, Felix rushes forward and catches the man in his arms, then nearly drops him to the ground when he realizes who it is. 

Sylvain looks up at him with a baffled expression before that familiar smirk flits across his lips. “Y’know, we really got to stop meeting like this.”

“Syl?” 

“Hey, Felix.” 

The casual use of his full name sends a jolt through him, and he helps ease Sylvain back onto his feet. Sylvain adjusts his jacket and beanie, pushing it down on his head until it almost covers his eyes. If things were normal between them, Felix would laugh, say he looks like a dork, but instead he just shuffles awkwardly aside and shoves his hands into his pockets. Neither of them talk, instead just glancing at each other with wary expressions, unsure of what to say. 

After what feels like forever, Felix speaks up. “Uh, how’ve you been?” 

Sylvain shrugs. “Been doin’ okay. Professor Manuela just asked me to be her TA next semester so that’s something. Otherwise uh, nothing’s changed much. Ingrid’s still a pain in my ass, my dad’s still trying to get me to come home, Miklan is MIA, the usual. Uh… how about you?”

“Same,” Felix says, dragging his toe through the snow. 

“Good, good,” Sylvain says, another awkward silence following. 

Felix sighs. He _loathes_ this. How did they go from late night talks and baring it all to not being able to hold a five minute conversation? It’s been so long since they’ve talked, and Felix has changed so much. He can’t let this go on. He won’t let this opportunity slip away without setting some things straight. 

Sylvain rocks back on his heels and nudges his head towards the library. “Listen, I really need to get going—”

“—Wait,” Felix interrupts as Sylvain turns away from him. “Don’t go. Not yet.” 

Felix can see Sylvain’s shoulders tense up. “Fe...,” Sylvain whispers. 

“I know,” he whispers back. “I fucked up that day. I let my fears get the best of me and I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Syl. I can’t take back what I did, but I’ve been working on being better. I’ve… been seeing Jeralt.” 

Sylvain turns back towards him. “The counselor?” 

“Yeah,” Felix nods. “He’s helped me with a lot of stuff, and I’m doing a lot better now. But,” he pauses for a breath, “I’ve never stopped thinking about that night. I wish I'd just told you the truth.”

“Which is?” Sylvain asks, eyeing him warily. 

Felix steels himself, sends up a prayer for courage, then says what’s been on his mind for months now. “I’m in love with you, Syl.” 

Sylvain just stares at him for a second. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I love you. I have for a long time now. And I was too much of a damn coward to say it back then, but I’m saying it now, even if it’s too late—”

“—It’s never too late,” Sylvain interrupts, and the next thing he knows Sylvain’s so close, hands resting on his arms. “I’ve thought of you every day. I wanted to pick up the phone and call you so many times, but I couldn’t pretend like nothing happened.” He brings one hand up, cups Felix’s face in it. Felix isn’t ashamed to admit that he leans into the touch, savoring the comfort he finds there. “You love me? For real?” 

A small laugh escapes Felix. “More than anything,” he says, a thousand-watt smile now dancing across his face. “Sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” 

“You love me,” Sylvain whispers again, like it’s something sacred. “I love you too, Fe.” 

He leans in closer to Sylvain, drinks up the warmth he’s missed so much. Sylvain rests his forehead against his, and in the softest voice Felix has ever heard, whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

Felix doesn’t hesitate. He closes the gap between them and sparks the flame that’s been burning for so long. Sylvain’s lips are soft, tender as they move over his, like he’s a precious thing that must be protected. Felix pushes closer, chasing the heat between them, letting all the electricity inside come to the surface. And in that tiny moment in time, it’s like they’re living in a snowglobe, with only the falling snow around them for company. 

When they break apart, Felix can feel his heart beating erratically in his chest, a perfect pair to the soft smile that has taken up residence on his lips. Sylvain looks back at him, eyes filled with so much tender care, so much love, that Felix wonders if it’s all a dream. 

“...Wow,” Sylvain says after a moment, laughing quietly. “We’re definitely doing that again.” 

Felix laughs along and says, “That and more, I hope.” 

“Take me to dinner first,” Sylvain teases, then offers his hand for Felix to take. “Speaking of, want to get some shitty caf food with me? My treat.” 

Felix laces his fingers with Sylvain’s, a feeling of lightness filling him up and spilling out. “Lead the way.” 

As they walk together hand in hand, Felix relishes in the warmth of the boy next to him, and knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s going to be alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> oh dang, where do i begin? thank you first and foremost to [ mimi](https://twitter.com/artofmimih), my partner for this project! her art is absolutely gorgeous, and you can view it on her [twitter account.](https://twitter.com/artofmimih/status/1296604429815123968) it is such a great compliment to the fic, and i couldn't have asked for a better artist. 
> 
> to [robbie](https://twitter.com/thehobbem), my forever fandom wife and beta, i would not have been able to finish this fic without your constant guidance and cheerleading. thank you for being an amazing beta and an even better friend <3
> 
> finally, thank YOU to whoever took the time to read this fic! if you like it, feel free to tell me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/raegardinglove)


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